


When The Stars Align

by Brackenfrond



Series: The Luck of Ronan Spire [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (These two finally get a fucking move on), Awesome Frigga (Marvel), But I fuck things up (again), Like a lot more this time, Multi, New York sucked, Odin's trying, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Ronan knows pop culture and listens to D&D podcasts, Thor: The Dark World, but good to know, but he's trying goddamn it, i am so bad a tagging, like he fucked up, not a major thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14530068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brackenfrond/pseuds/Brackenfrond
Summary: ‘I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.’ ~ The Old Astronomer, Sarah Williams---Ronan should've known that going to London was a bad idea, but he wanted to get away from New York. From America. From...from memories.Of course, he wasn't that lucky. He knew by this point that his luck was terrible.Now, Jane's infected with some evil space element, the nine realms are aligning, evil elves are on the loose and, somewhere in this mess, Ronan seems to have magically gained control of his gift.Also, Loki's in jail.He should've just stayed in New York.





	1. Chapter 1

London was...new.

That was all Ronan could really think to say on the subject. New York had been new those months ago, and over time had become familiar but full of memories that he didn’t want to dwell upon. He didn’t want to think about alien armies and invasions and Asgardians. Didn’t want to ponder Loki’s fate and wake up, feeling either the cold blade against his throat or feel the slender god in his arms.

He should have known that he would never be lucky enough to escape the issue altogether, even if luck was his power. It never worked like that, especially when it came to Jane Foster.

Jane had been normal, Ronan supposed, even with her fascination with astronomy and astrophysics. Their friendship was an unlikely one, what with her being as clever as she was and Ronan being...well, himself, it was amazing they had even met. It wasn’t like he could ever regret meeting Jane and becoming friends with her, he just wished that meeting Jane hadn’t resulted in the chaos that was his life nowadays.

The chaos being superheroes, gods, new planets and, apparently, rifts in the space time continuum or something that disturbed the entire laws of physics.

Yeah. This was his life now.

Thing was, Ronan knew that if he had stayed in America, even if he had to beg and plead with his landlord to give him an extension on his rent while he called Tony and asked him to possibly loan him enough to cover it, he wouldn’t be standing on the grounds of an abandoned factory with a foreboding feeling in his stomach.

“I don’t like this.” He muttered to Jane, who seemed oblivious to the aura of ‘this is bad’ emanating from the place. “I mean, I know that logically we’ve dealt with worse, but like, if this is alien related -”

“I don’t think there’ll be another wormhole into space.” Darcy pointed out and Ronan wanted to hit her. “Besides you were kick ass that time.”

“Correction, everyone else was kick ass. I mean, if you want me to talk someone down from destroying a city, sure, but I can’t...kill things.”

“Anyone can kill things.”

“Well I prefer not to.” Ronan retorted. “I’m...is it Lawful Good?”

“You’ve been watching too many people play Dungeons and Dragons.” Jane decided. “I’m sure we won’t run into any trouble.”

“Unless someone tries to stab us.” Ronan mumbled to himself, and was pointedly ignored by the other two as they entered the building.

It was derelict and decrepit, and the hairs on the back of Ronan’s neck stood up. He didn’t like this, he had such a bad feeling about this place, and it couldn’t just be because of the appearance. No, before they’d even stepped near here, he’d been feeling off, twitchy and nervous, though he had no idea why. Alarms were going off in his head - bad thing, bad thing, stay away. He couldn’t heed them, though, not when Jane and Darcy could get caught in the mix of bad stuff. So he buried the tiny voice in his mind telling him to stay away, and stuck with them.

He also did not bite his tongue when a group of pigeons took off in flight, nor at the sounds of footsteps. The taste of blood in his mouth was not from biting the side of his cheek hard enough to break the skin.

The footsteps belonged to kids, thankfully, and not thugs who would sooner gut them than show them the anomaly that Jane’s equipment had picked up on. They reminded Ronan of himself and Marie as kids, Marie dragging him into all manner of places that kids probably shouldn’t be in. It was odd, he supposed, realising the world hadn’t changed all that much in a few years.

Jane convinced the kids to show them what they’d ‘found’ and...well, Ronan was sure that Jane’s device had not malfunctioned, because last he checked, trucks did not float about in the air.

“That doesn’t look right.” Darcy muttered, and Ronan could only nod his agreement. This was either scientifically explainable, or there was something magical going on. He was betting on the magical part, the mythical. Because his luck constantly seemed to swing towards that. Something being able to be explained away by science? If that happened to him, he would think his luck was actually being beneficial to him, and that would be plain weird.

It was the items disappearing and reappearing that truly threw Ronan off, though.

He could see what looked like...ripples in the air when they disappeared, like pushing on a liquid barrier of some sort. It felt wrong in general and his senses were screaming at him not right, not right, not right. Maybe it was because it felt like, if these tiny things could go through, what would prevent something else coming through? Something bigger and more menacing, capable of destroying cities in a matter of minutes?

He clenched his hand into a fist, nails digging into the meat of his hand painfully. Not the time to think about that, not now. There was no wormhole, the tesseract was on Asgard and whatever Loki -

He shook himself mentally. Now was definitely not the time to think of that name, especially when Ronan had blocked that name from his mind. He couldn’t wonder about him, not right now, because according to Thor getting to Earth had been hard enough to retrieve his brother, never mind the fact that Ronan doubted Loki would even be allowed back down. He didn’t know what happened after Manhattan regarding the trickster, and he honestly didn’t want to. It wasn’t his business to be concerned about him. Loki could look after himself, and he deserved to face the repercussions for his actions.

Ronan just hoped Thor mentioned the outside forces at play, about what they suspected happened on the other side of the wormhole. Purely for the safety of Asgard and Earth, of course, not because Ronan cared about Loki…

Who was he kidding? No one but himself, apparently.

“I haven’t seen readings like this since…” Jane’s voice brought Ronan out of his thoughts, and he mentally thanked her. Jane’s eyes met his, wide and excited. “Since…”

“New Mexico.” Ronan guessed, and Darcy smirked.

“Go on, look around - you know you want to.” She elbowed Jane, who attempted a scowl but her obvious eagerness made it impossible.

“Just - don’t touch anything!” She ordered, before darting off, Darcy cackling as she left. Ronan shook his head.

“Hey, give me your shoe.” Ronan turned to face Darcy, a single eyebrow raised.

“No chance, Lewis. I’m not losing my shoe in another plane of existence. Find a bottle.”

XoooX

It took five hours for Jane to reappear and during those five hours Ronan had a panic attack.

Logically, he knew something like New York wouldn't happen again without his knowledge. It had been big and all encompassing, and they would have noticed if a giant wormhole had opened up, but Jane was gone. Vanished, and all Ronan could see was the Iron Man armour flying into the wormhole and the fact that Tony might not have fallen back through. It couldn't happen to Jane, one of his first friends. It couldn't happen to her, she was a scientist, a civilian. Unlike Jane, Tony knew the risks of flying through a portal into space. And the portals here, the ripples in dimensions...they weren't clear.

He couldn’t be blamed if, as soon as Jane reappeared, he nearly knocked her over with the force of his hug.

He was all too aware that he was babbling nonsense, about wormholes and space and aliens and how he was terrified, so scared, because he thought this time. This time, someone was going to get pulled into a wormhole and this time they wouldn’t come back.

He was vaguely aware of Jane running a hand through his hair. He pulled back from the hug, still feeling fragile, and rested his hands on Jane’s upper arms, scared that if he let go she’d disappear again.

“Where were you?”

“I was in the warehouse.” Jane said, before her eyes landed on the police. “You called the cops?!”

“Jane -”

“We had unlimited access to a scientific site! They’ll call the feds and then SHIELD will be all over this -”

“You were gone for five hours.” Darcy cut through her yelling and Jane froze, mouth still open slightly.

“I...what?”

Then it began to rain.

It wasn’t natural rain, though, Ronan could tell because the three of them were stood in a circle where no rain fell on them.

Thunder rumbled overhead, no lightning split the almost clear sky, and as one the three turned to look at the pseudo god that had landed on Earth once more.

The first thing Ronan noticed was that he’d grown his hair out, little braids dotted about the long blonde locks, two holding it back from his face.

The second thing Ronan noticed was the worry that was creasing his forehead, until it relaxed at the sight of Jane. Ronan managed to not frown - something to do with her five hour long disappearance? Possibly. No, not possibly - definitely. Of course definitely. If something supernatural had happened, of course it would have something to do with Asgard. Or worse.

Ronan may have felt slightly ill. Worse was not good.

He barely noticed the rain falling on him as Jane walked over to Thor, indignant rage coming off her in waves, barely noticed Darcy’s shriek as they both got drenched.

In fact, he felt a bit too numb to notice anything until Jane nearly passed out after blowing a cop back and shattering a few car windows with a red light.

It took him about a second to register that he wasn’t seeing things and raced over to Jane, who was already being helped up by Thor. Ronan absently noted that he hadn’t been blown back, hadn’t even been cut by the flying glass, and maybe he was just…

Nope. He was not going to say that word. That was not a good word to say right now because something was wrong.

“Jane, what -”

“I don’t know.” Jane was staring at her hands, eyes wide a stunned. “It’s not a mutation - it can’t be, right? It...It would’ve shown itself earlier, wouldn’t it?” Ronan opened his mouth to confirm her suspicion, but was cut off by a cop.

“Put your hands behind your heads.” He looked terrified and Ronan resisted the urge to snort. Weren’t these guys supposed to deal with criminals on a daily basis? His eyes landed on the glass, glittering prettily on the ground, yet still harmful, and oh. Yeah, Jane had done that somehow.

“This woman is sick.”

“She’s dangerous.” The officer replied and Ronan may have flinched, although it wasn’t directed at him. It was a phrase used too often about mutants, and him being one, though his power didn’t manifest as anything physical, it could be argued that he could possibly take luck away. Never mind the fact that he had little to no control over what it did anyway.

“So am I.”

“Wrong thing to say.” Ronan hissed as the cop began requesting back up. “Can’t you use the bifrost? Get her to Asgard because this...there’s something telling me this is something to do with...Norse stuff.”

“You’re coming too.” Jane insisted, even as Thor hooked an arm around her waist. “Ro, please, I need you.”

Someone normal. Someone from Earth, a grounding force. Ronan got that. Maybe a friend? Maybe. He could never be sure when it came to the emotional stuff. Either way, he nodded and took Jane’s outstretched hand, moving closer to the duo.

“Beam us up.” He said, and he heard Jane’s laugh before they were rushing through realms, and Ronan was really, really uncertain about this.

Yeah. He should’ve stayed at home.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronan nearly died upon seeing Heimdall.

He knew the Norse gods were real - even if technically they weren't gods - courtesy of Thor and Loki, but seeing others was something else. It was more than just hearing about them, knowing of them, it was finding out they were real and tangible and  _ standing right in front of him holy shit _ .

Ronan knew Heimdall by a different name, but it was similar enough that it didn't throw him off by much. Not as much as Loki being Thor’s brother instead of a sort of uncle.

Oh, and the whole...frost giant thing. Obviously, some human knowledge would not actually match up with the actuality of things, but it was pretty damn close. It was slightly impressive, especially when he realised that his mother's versions of the legends seemed to match up closer to the things he'd found out through Thor. It was odd, but almost comforting in a way.

It meant he wasn't on the verge of panicking at the sudden realisation that he was in space and surrounded by aliens and they all had the capacity to kill him. Because he was pretty sure the Norse gods had some form of morals, and didn't have the Greek gods ability to either sleep with every living thing or turn them into spiders for beating them in a weaving contest.

Ronan was firmly ignoring the whole Loki-horse incident.

Jane was saying about having to try that again, not having noticed the man with golden eyes yet. Ronan was firmly in the ‘only if absolutely necessary’ section, and was truly amazed he could still breathe considering all things. He started badly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning only to see Thor looking at him in concern.

“You look unwell.”

“Space travel. After New York...not a big fan of portals into space.” He admitted, sticking his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He had the sudden urge to just disappear. Just fall through the floor and not deal with this. That would mean he’d be dead, though, and he’d crushed the little voice that told him it would be easier if he was gone a while back.

A while back, meaning a few months. After New York. “Even if there isn’t an army waiting on the other side.”

“I didn't think about that.” Jane now looked concerned. “Are you -"

“I’m here. Thor, introduce us?” And now Jane took notice of Heimdall and her eyes grew wide.

“Who -?”

“Jane, Ronan, this is Heimdall.” Thor introduced them and Jane may have been stuck on whether to bow or curtsy. Ronan noted that Heimdall’s lips twitched in amusement.

“The keeper of the bifrost. Seer of all realms. My mother mentioned something about you having, like, nine mothers. I don't know if that's true though. A lot of myths get tangled up with facts.” Ronan was well aware he was babbling, and that Jane was giving him a look between worry and ‘please shut up’. Fortunately, Heimdall only looked mildly impressed. As well as amused.

“The myth regarding my parentage is just that - a myth.”

“Oh.” Ronan managed. “I...I did the babbling thing. I need to stop doing the babbling thing. The last time I did the babbling thing I told my therapist he smelt like cabbage and misery.”

“You had a therapist?” Jane asked.

“Had being the keyword.” Ronan replied. “I think it was the misery that did it. Then I took some meds for my whole messed up brain thing which Tony is paying for because he loves me.”

“I was not aware that you and the man of iron were...like that.” Thor said, voice awkward as they left the...arrival room? That sounded right. Jane burst into laughter and Ronan decided to clear up that miscommunication immediately.

“Not like that. He calls me kid, I provide human interaction and he offers to buy me a penthouse in New York.” Ronan shrugged. Jane frowned.

“I wish someone would offer to buy me a penthouse in New York.”

XoooX

Ronan wondered if there was any possible way to send his father to Asgard for treatment. Partially because then he wouldn't have to scrape together the money to keep him on life support, but mostly because the medical equipment was far more advanced than whatever they had on earth.

This thing they had Jane set up on was apparently called a soul forge, powered by magic because it definitely was magic. Even if magic was just something undiscovered or unexplained by science, Ronan would always find it magical.

All the healers working on Jane, Ronan realised, were female. Women with their hair pulled back into buns, created with intricate braids, wearing blue outfits that reminded Ronan of what the medical staff would wear in Star Trek. Maybe he was trying to compare odd things in this strange world to something from home. To ground him a bit.

Even so, it wasn’t working. He was all to aware that the machines were nothing like home, or like the ones in Star Trek. He would give anything for the old, almost laughable scenes in the original series right now.

“That’s a quantum field generator, isn't it?” Jane reached out to try and touch the golden particles above her as Thor and Ronan watched on.

“It’s a soul forge.” The healer replied and Ronan tuned out the conversation, turning to look at Thor.

“Do you have any idea…?” Thor shook his head at Ronan’s question.

“This...whatever it is, is not of Asgard. I have not seen it on any other realm either.” Thor frowned slightly, managing a smile when Jane glanced at him, eyes wide and full of curiosity. 

The atmosphere was shattered by an old man making an appearance.

Ronan stood stock still, taking in his appearance - Asgardian armour of fine make, the fabric rich and the metal gleaming. Despite the white hair, the beard, the sign of age taking its toll, he walked strongly, with a purpose, as though he were as young as Thor. And he had an eyepatch, made of metal.

Ronan knew who he was immediately, and he couldn’t stop staring.

“Do my words sound like mere noises?” Oh, he was angry, and it took all of Ronan’s strength to not flinch as one stormy eye looked between Ronan and Jane. “For it appears you do not seem to hear anything but noise.”

“They’re my friends.” Thor said, looking righteous and just as angry. “She’s ill.”

“She’s mortal.” The other Asgardian retorted. “Illness is a defining trait of them.” He waved a hand, and the soul forge went dark, the flickering golden grains vanished. “They don't belong on Asgard anymore than a goat belongs at a banquet table.” Ronan let out a quiet noise of indignation and Jane sat up, staring at the Asgardian. Ronan made to tell her to shut up, but was too late.

“Who do you think you are?” She snapped, obviously angered and indignant and Ronan wanted to die.

“I -”

“He’s Odin.” Ronan said, despite himself. “King of Asgard, protector of the Nine Realms, Allfather.” He didn’t include the fact that he was father to Thor. That wasn’t needed, judging by Jane’s slack mouth. Odin looked at him with a narrow gaze.

“And you are the lucky one, Ronan Spire, whom my son and Loki have spoken of.” For once, Ronan ignored the lucky comment, latching onto the mention of his name.

“Loki spoke of me?”

“It is of no import.” Odin turned to the guards. “Take them back to the bifrost.”

Ronan thought the fact that Loki had deemed him important enough to mention was very important, but that was not the current issue. The current issue was that, as soon as a guard made to grab Jane’s arm, he was blown back by whatever the hell she’d contracted. Thor ran to her as she lay down again, too pale, too weak. The god ran a hand through her hair, soft and gentle.

“Jane? Are you alright?” He was soon joined by Odin, who ran a hand just above Jane’s arm and immediately looked troubled.

“That’s impossible.” He murmured, and Ronan made his way forward, closer. He could see it, now, red coursing through Jane’s veins. Red that wasn’t blood, something much more sinister.

“It’s...defending her?” A healer said and Ronan shook his head.

“It’s defending itself.” He looked up at Thor. “That’s it, right? Whatever this is...it isn’t just an infection.”

“Now do you see why I brought her here?” Thor asked his father, while helping Jane to her feet. The king of Asgard pursed his lips, but made no comment on how Thor was obviously in the right.

Ronan decided that he wasn’t too keen on Odin.

“Come with me.” Was all he said in response. “I have something to show you.”

They made their way after Odin, Ronan on the other side of Jane, mostly concerned about her, and partially listening to what Odin was telling them. He was looking for clues, hints on what was going on. Many times he wanted to ask questions, but managed to restrain himself. He didn’t want half truths, whatever tales this man would weave. He had a feeling that he had constructed half truths before.

When Odin spoke of the relics, Ronan couldn’t hold back.

“You’re talking about the stones, aren’t you?” He blurted, and felt himself flush when Thor, Odin and Jane turned to look at him. “My...my mother told me stories. She said...before the birth of the world, as the universe was created, within it came six stones. Each controlled an aspect of power - time, space, power, mind, soul and...reality.” He managed. “They were scattered through the cosmos, as they were too powerful for a single person to command, if not for the creation of...of a gauntlet. She said that whoever wielded all six with the gauntlet would have the ability to shape the universe as they see fit, with merely a thought.” Odin nodded, looking surprised.

“It appears as though your mother knew more than most mortals.” He said, walking over to a book, flicking through pages with a purpose. “What resides within her appears to be one of them.”

“A stone?” Jane frowned. “But it’s...not a stone?”

“Reality stone.” Ronan hazarded. “Able to take whatever form. I mean, it can bend reality.”

“Exactly. Tell me, did she ever tell you of dark elves, your mother?” Odin asked and Ronan nodded.

“Yes. She...said they reigned in a land where darkness was eternal, and it granted them power. They had control of some sort of energy...something called aether. Only, their leader wanted to absorb it and use its power to cast eternal night over all nine realms. Bor killed them all. He wiped out an entire race, just like that. Or, at least, that’s what the Asgardians were left to believe - my mother said that it was never easy to destroy an entire race. It never is. There are always at least remnants, stragglers, and they remained angry and bitter for the injustice they had been granted.” Ronan stuck his chin out slightly at Odin’s look of outrage. “Mass genocide is never an answer. Mortals tried it more than once - we are not so alike, us and Asgardians.”

“How dare -”

“This is not the time to argue over differences.” Thor butted in, probably saving Ronan’s life. “That does not explain how the aether got into Jane - or how to remove it.” Odin shook his head, and Jane went startlingly pale.

“As far as I know, there is no way to remove it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha this took ages and I hit writer's block.
> 
> Fingers crossed, once I actually reach plot points with Loki things will be coming out quicker. Unfortunately, it’s waiting to reach said plot points that is a difficulty.
> 
> I’m currently doing way too much overtime at work due to like no staff, and now winter’s approaching quicker than ever, I’m getting tireder much quicker. Hopefully we’ll have more staff soon and I’ll have Tuesday and Friday completely free again but I have no idea when that will be.
> 
> I’m also doing sort of one shots for other fandoms. I may post them in lieu of actual updates, but I highly doubt that. Writing is hard to actually do currently.
> 
> For now, I present you guys with this.
> 
> See you! - Jazz xx


	3. Chapter 3

Jane was sent to a room to sleep off the effects of the aether defending itself, which left Ronan with Thor and time to explore Asgard.

“I think you will like it here.” Thor said, slapping Ronan on the shoulder with a force that almost made Ronan’s legs buckle. “You were very interested about Asgard when I first came to earth.”

“Yeah.” Ronan was being lead through the streets, decked out in Asgardian garb - minus his oversized hoody that he had firmly refused parting with. He also had his phone in the pockets, so he wanted to keep it, if only so he could curl his fingers around a piece of technology that he understood. “I mean, Earth cultures are hugely diverse, but Asgard is something totally different. I want to match up things from myths and pick apart the differences. It’ll be neat. Tony will be so jealous.”

“It is good to see you’ve made more friends.” Thor sounded genuine when he said that. “I know we fought together, but I was not sure if you would stay in contact with them.”

“Tony I stay in contact with. Bruce for a while, but he keeps vanishing off to different countries.” Ronan shrugged a shoulder, admiring some fancy scarves a merchant was trying to sell. His mother would have loved them, he thought, and Marie had a particular fondness for any material that was either silky smooth or ridiculously fluffy. “Tony was attempting to figure out what I could use in fights - now that SHIELD has my contact details I can’t just count on luck to keep me alive. You know, if it works.”

“Then today, we shall find you a weapon. Worthy of the gods.” Thor announced and immediately, Ronan balked.

“What?”

“We’ll find a weapon for you. Hopefully there will be no need for it, but it is always better to have one. Just in case.” Thor looked at Ronan, eyes sparkling with excitement. “It shall be a tale worthy to tell on Midgard! Every warrior must have a weapon of some form!”

“I’m assuming just punching someone isn’t an option?” Ronan asked, voice dry, and was resigned to Thor leading him to a blacksmith forge.

The weapons didn’t catch Ronan’s attention - he knew swords and maces from games like Dragon Age and stories like Lord of the Rings, but half of these he couldn’t name. He knew the weapons the gods held - Frey’s sword and Gungnir and Tyrfing and, of course, Mjolnir - but he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sword like that. Or spear. Or hammer.

“My Lord!” The man who had been previously hammering at metal had turned to cool it and in doing so had caught sight of the God of Thunder. He dropped the sword with a clang, dropping into a hasty bow and Thor laughed.

“At ease. I'm here to find a weapon for a defender of Midgard." Ronan braced himself for the hand on his shoulder this time, and his knees didn't buckle this time- an achievement. The smithy's eyes lit up eagerly, but his shoulders slumped slightly when he caught sight of Ronan. He wasn't surprised - Ronan wasn't exactly what a warrior would look like. “This is Ronan Spire. He helped with the capture of Loki.”

Which, ok, was true, but Ronan felt uncomfortable because these people would have expected him to have fought. Which was mostly untrue - he had fought the Chitauri, but talked to Loki. Had made him crumble and break, had made him cry and cling to Ronan like a child.

Immediately, the Blacksmith's eyes lit up, now looking more appraising. It made Ronan feel ill, how eager he was to bring Ronan a weapon, just because he had captured a disgraced Prince of Asgard. Had the same man crafted Loki his knives? Spoken to him as a friend? Thought him a good man? Loyalty, it seemed, was a fickle thing.

His fingers curled tighter over his phone, and he thought of the few numbers stored in it. Would the people they belonged to be just a loyal as this man, who was now showing Thor his wares?

“Something small or light.” The blacksmith was eying Ronan up and down. “You aren't as muscular as most warriors - how did you assist in the capture of Loki?”

“I read him children's books and made him cry.” Ronan deadpanned, which was completely true. “He held a knife to my throat and didn't kill me so. I guess I made him feel things? Look, Thor, I don't really need a weapon. I’m literally walking luck.” He shot the god a pleading look. “As long as I don't do something incredibly stupid I won't need a weapon. I don't think I could life a sword even if I wanted to.”

“Then we shall not get you a sword.” Thor seemed pretty set on getting Ronan something sharp and pointy and possibly deadly in his very small, very mortal hands. Great. “A knife or a dagger. You need a means of protection, in case your luck does not work. As you say it never does.”

Ronan opened his mouth to protest, but found himself incapable of doing so. He couldn’t really argue with Thor’s logic and sort of hated himself for constantly criticising his lucky power. After all, if Ronan hadn’t mentioned his powers habit of backfiring spectacularly, then he would not be in this position.

It seemed to suit his power’s ability to work against him, at any rate.

The blacksmith did not seem keen on the idea of giving Ronan a knife. It occurred to him, then, that Loki’s preferred weapon was probably a knife - a small, tricksy sort of weapon, only used when his magic didn’t serve as an appropriate way to take down an enemy. It was the fact that the blacksmith seemed unwilling that made Ronan decide.

“Alright then.” He said, elbowing Thor in the side lightly, a fond gesture. “Let's see these knives. But if I accidentally stab you, you only have yourself to blame.”

XoooX

Ronan was left to wander the palace alone when news reached them of Jane waking up. Thor had given Ronan the most desperate look he had ever seen in his life and had shooed him away to be with the love of Thor’s ridiculously long life.

Only, now, Ronan was a bit lost. He wasn’t exactly sure how to reach his rooms, or even Jane’s to see how she was doing. So, maybe, Ronan hadn’t thought out shooing Thor off as well as he could have. It could’ve been worse, he supposed.

“You look lost.” Ronan didn’t jump at the voice, turning to look at an older woman. Her hair was long, partially tied up, braided and golden in the light. She wore what seemed to be typical for Asgardian women to wear - an elegant dress, but with armor covering the chest, shoulders and triceps. Multipurpose. She offered him a smile. “Where are you looking to go?”

“Uh, I was looking for Jane.” He managed, trying to pinpoint who the woman may be, but failing miserably. Maybe she wasn’t mentioned in the traditional myths - after all, he realised after meeting the warriors three that he’d never read their names before. “Thor went ahead of me and I sort of...took a wrong turn.”

“I was headed there myself.” Said the woman. “I can take you there, if you like? I had just come back from seeing to Loki.” The name caught Ronan’s attention immediately and, as much as he wanted to make sure Jane was alright, he also wanted to see the other Asgardian. He wondered what he was like out of the influence of some higher power, if he’d recovered after the events of New York.

He wondered if he’d managed to pick up the children’s books they’d been reading, if he’d been enamoured by the tales Ronan told him of a lonely magician who found a place where he belonged. He wondered if he saw himself in Harry just as much as Ronan had.

“Actually, I...could I speak to him?” Ronan managed and the woman regarded him, not with a nasty confusion, but more so genuine curiousity, as to why Ronan would want to speak with him.

“Unfortunately, he is under guard.” She said, and Ronan detected the note of sadness in her voice at that, a hint of regret. “It was decided that after his actions on Midgard that he be imprisoned indefinitely.”

Ronan was genuinely struck mute by that tidbit. That had not been shared with him, though truthfully there had been no time to tell him that vital piece of information.

“Oh?” His voice came out choked. “I...hadn’t realised. I...I thought the evidence provided would be enough to at least get...help.”

“Evidence?” The woman now sounded confused, her brow furrowing. Ronan felt something inside him churn.

“Yes.” He replied, keeping his words slow and voice as level as possible. “To be presented at a trial of some sort.”

“Loki was immediately sentenced to be imprisoned by Odin.” She started when Ronan swore. He would have apologised if not for the sudden panic that flooded through him.

“That’s - no, that’s not...that can’t be true. Loki was manipulated. This wasn’t just - New York wasn’t just him acting. And that’s his _ father _ -”

“It was your realm he invaded.” The woman cut across him smoothly, voice surprisingly calm. “Surely you would see justice done?”

“Sentencing a man who acted under pressure because his life was on the line is not justice.” Ronan countered easily. “What crime did he commit here?”

“He...Loki has done many things that he has been punished for. We thought him dead, after his attempts to destroy the Jotnar.” The woman ducked her head, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. “When he fell from the bridge, after Odin had...disapproved of his actions...we believed he was dead. When he somehow survived, we knew he had attempted to rule Midgard, and he returned here after causing so much devastation...his father loves him, but his actions could not go unpunished.”

“Did he ever act like that?”

“Who act like what?” The woman asked, blinking wide eyes.

“Odin ever act like he truly loved his adopted child? Yes, I know of Loki’s heritage. Did Odin ever tell Loki he was proud of him? Ever treat him as good as he treated Thor? Encourage his love of the arts, find the light in his mischief? A good parent should never have to tell their child they love them - they shouldn’t have to use words for them to know they love them.” Ronan heard no words from the woman for a while, before she spoke up.

“Do you believe he should be walking free?”

“I believe he should have help. What he went through after the fall I don’t know, but it wasn’t anything good. And judging from what I know of the fall, it was an attempt to kill himself.” The woman sucked in a sharp, shocked breath, a noise of pain escaped her. Ronan shouldn’t have felt that sharp stab of satisfaction at the fact he’d managed to make his point, painful as it was. “Mental issues...they aren’t a sign of weakness, a lack of anything. I think maybe Loki feels as though he can never break free of the shadow Thor casts. I think he’s trying to step into the sun, but the shadows his father and Thor leave? They’re hard to break free of.” Ronan knew that feeling all too well - though he’d never had to compete with another sibling, he’d always faded into the background until it was revealed that he could provide luck. Then he became important, and he assumed that Loki was only deemed important when his unique talents could be useful. That was at least what he had heard in the telling of myths.

There was silence, then, an uncomfortable one that Ronan itched to break, but it would be with an apology. He shouldn’t have to apologise for speaking his mind, no matter how much he felt like he should.

Fortunately it wasn’t long until Ronan heard Thor’s voice, and it made his entire being relax.

“...father doesn't know everything.” Thor’s voice was quiet, reassuring, but still easily heard by Ronan. It was the woman who spoke, though.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” She said, voice amused, and Thor and Jane turned to look at them. Thor’s eyes immediately brightened at the sight of them.

“Ronan! I see you have already met my mother.” Ronan felt himself go cold, then immediately heat flooded to his cheeks. He had actually insulted Odin - her husband - and the Asgardian justice system in front of the Queen of Asgard, Frigga. He felt slightly mortified, but also relieved that she hadn’t actually done something horrible to him. Like turn him into a frog or something similar. “Jane, this is my mother and the Queen of Asgard, Frigga.” Once again, Jane looked like she wasn’t sure whether to bow or curtsy or not.

“Hi.” She managed, and Ronan felt his lips twitch upwards in an urge to laugh. Jane saw his traitorous smile, and shot him a mock look of betrayal. He stuck his tongue out in return.

That was when an alarm sounded.

It wasn’t like a police siren, more like a horn being blown over and over again.

“The prisons.” Frigga breathed.

“Loki.” Thor countered, and he was off before Ronan could think to get a word in edgeways. It was Frigga who ushered the two of them deeper into the palace, further away from the dungeons, despite Ronan’s desire to go to the dungeons. Something within him was telling him that following Frigga was for the best, but he didn’t care. Loki was in the dungeons and something was going wrong and what if he got hurt? He knew it was illogical - Loki had his tricks - but still Ronan worried over him.At some point they crossed paths with Odin, who tried to pass off the issue in the prisons as merely a skirmish, nothing to worry about. But Ronan could read his expression, see the real worry there, as could Frigga.

“You’ve never been a good liar.” Frigga countered easily as more warriors passed, donning armour and weapons. Ronan’s mind went to the dagger, sheathed at his hip, and felt inferior to the trained warriors carrying spears and swords. Weapons he couldn’t hope to use.

“Take them to your chambers.” Odin’s words cut through Ronan’s thoughts and he watched as the king pressed his forehead against Frigga’s, an obvious sign of affection. “I shall come for you when it’s safe.”

“Take care.” Frigga said and Odin’s lips quirked into a smile, fond and it made Ronan...not like him, but realise that even this man cared. Maybe he didn’t like Odin, maybe he never would, but he did care, which...was something, he supposed.

“Despite everything, my queen still worries over me.”

“It’s only my worry that has kept you alive.” Frigga pointed out, watching as her husband turned to head to where the dungeons were. They were lead the opposite way, and Ronan saw her deftly take a sword from a guards belt as they moved. “I need both of you to do whatever I ask, no questions.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jane nodded once and Ronan could see the calculation in Frigga’s eyes, the cleverness beneath the warmth. He had seen it in Loki’s eyes when talking back during his imprisonment on the helicarrier, whenever Tony had a particularly brilliant idea, and Ronan knew that this woman was just as brilliant and cunning as the two of them, if not more so.

“Of course.”

XoooX

Even still, the chambers of the queen were not safe. Ronan knew this, even as he and Jane were ushered into a hiding spot, even as Frigga crafted an illusion of Jane with a wave of a hand.

They may be safe, but the same could not be said for the queen of Asgard.

He could hear her drawing out information from her attacker - a name, Malekith, which was more than what they previously had. He could also assume he had come for the aether even before he mentioned that he had come to claim what was his. It also gave way to what he was. A dark elf. Of course Ronan would be correct about some surviving.

Then he heard the clashing of swords, of fighting, and judging from the sounds Frigga was winning, was backing Malekith into a corner.

Then, he heard growling. It was feral, terrifying and not even mildly earthlike. It made Ronan’s heart beat fast in panic, close his eyes tight and hope, hope that they were both hidden well enough that they would not be found.

He heard Malekith’s yell of witch, could picture the look on Frigga’s face when the elf realised that she had tricked him - Ronan had seen it on Loki’s face through cctv, and that was a smile that scared him more than anything else.

Malekith questioned her, and Frigga was defiant.

And then, Ronan heard the sound of pain, Thor screaming no and electricity crackling through the air, of Mjolnir hitting something and Ronan raced from the hiding place, skidding as he came to kneel next to Frigga.

His hands came up to cover the wound, stem the bleeding - it had gone through, God it had pierced her, and her eyes were wide, unseeing, but Frigga was breathing and oh God. Not again.

Another parent was going to die and his hands were going to be stained with their blood.

Something inside him was burning, bubbling, and he was wishing that please, please, no, not another mother.

Please, don’t let Thor lose his mother.

“Ronan -” He barely heard Jane’s voice, too busy staring at Frigga’s face, her eyelids fluttering. “Ronan, your hands!” He tore his gaze away from her face, to his hands, and stared.

They were glowing, gold light shining from them and pooling around the wound. Not closing it, not completely, but stemming the blood flow, stopping the bleeding. Frigga’s eyes fell shut, and Ronan moved one hand to her wrist. There was a pulse, weak and faint, but there.

He was aware of eyes on him, and he looked up, meeting Thor’s stunned gaze.

“She’s alive.” Ronan managed, removing a trembling hand from the wound. It wasn’t glowing anymore, just covered in blood, wet and red and no longer flowing from Frigga.

“How…” Thor had moved to kneel next to Ronan, Odin kneeling to rest Frigga’s head on his lap, stroking her hair. Jane was still by the hiding place, watching the scene with disbelieving eyes. Ronan moved his fingers, shaking his head.

“I don’t...I don’t know.” Jane cleared her throat, and her voice came out small but sure.

“I...I think I might know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god the worst thing about writing is autocorrect is American and I’m British THERE IS A U THERE AUTOCORRECT.
> 
> I swear there is a reason for what happened with Frigga, and it isn’t Ronan magically developing healing powers. Trust me, I have put A LOT of thought into it. Here’s a hint to what happened: What is said to happen when the stars align just right?
> 
> Either way, I have my Friday nights back! *cheers* Hopefully next week I’ll be free on Tuesdays, which means more time for writing.
> 
> In other news, this is one of my longest chapters written for this series, second only to the climax in The Lucky Seven(th) so that’s...something.
> 
> Loki IS coming in the next chapter, so get ready for the reunion folks!
> 
> See you later - Jazz xx


	4. Chapter 4

It was after Ronan had washed his hands of the blood that stained them, after boats had been set alight in a traditional send off, after balls of light had been sent into the sky with Asgard in tears, that Jane explained her theory.

“Thor told me about something called the convergence - when all the nine realms are aligned perfectly.” She said, running a hand through her hair. “It made me think - your power is related to luck. What if it's powered by symbols of luck?”

“How does the convergence relate to that?” Ronan had to ask.

“They say that when the stars align, good fortune is in your favour. This is more than stars - this is realms.” Jane's eyes had gone bright with excitement. They usually did when she'd cracked a problem, when her theory made sense. “Ronan, your power gave luck to Frigga. It allowed her to breathe, to stay alive, despite all the odds. Your luck has been amplified and because of this convergence. A once every five thousand year event.” Ronan saw Thor nodding slightly in agreement.

“That would make sense. This is the only time your luck has had a visible effect, able to be seen.”

“I could feel it, too. Like it was fire coursing through my blood. And it's...been warning me, I think, about the portals back in London. Something was screaming at me to leave, that it was dangerous, I just didn't realise how dangerous at the time.” Ronan shook his head. “I thought it was just because of New York. But if your theory is right then...since before coming here my luck has been intervening, or trying to, with the bad things that should be happening.”

“And the convergence isn't even at the strongest point yet.” Jane added. “The realms aren't completely aligned yet. They're still aligning. When they're in position…” She trailed off, and Ronan was left staring at his hands.

“Why now?” He whispered, voice hoarse. “Why is my luck only kicking in now? Why not...years ago. When I needed it to work. When my mum…”

“Ronan. What happened to your mother...it wasn't your fault.” Jane reached out to take his hands in her own small ones. Her skin was frighteningly pale against his own dark hands. “There are so many things that coincide with your luck working now - the convergence, your age, the way the really tough stuff is happening now. Your mother...you couldn't have saved her. I know you think you could have, but you were a kid. You were ten. It was not your fault. What matters now is that you have saved someone - a woman is alive and breathing now because of you.”

“But she will not wake.” Jane and Ronan startled in unison at Odin’s voice, and he was watching them with an icy gaze. “My wife may be alive, but the healers believe she will not wake for a long time.”

“She's alive. There’s...there’s still a chance she'll pull through.” Ronan said, thinking bitterly that his own father was in that state, but he was not Asgardian, he was merely mortal, and one day Ronan may have to make the impossible choice to pull the plug on his life support.

“Mother will be fine, father.” Thor reassured him. “She is much too stubborn to die. Right now, we need to figure out why the elves attacked us.”

“Isn't it obvious?” Ronan said, raising an eyebrow. “The aether. It's in Jane. Somehow her stumbling across it must have awoken the last remnants of the race -" Here, he gave Odin a pointed look, harkening back to his comment earlier. “- And they traced it here. They escaped though, and they will come back.”

“We can face Malekith head on.” Thor glanced at Jane, before turning back to his father. “I can take Jane to Svartalfheim, and when he moves to take the aether, destroy it or contain it while it's vulnerable. He won't be expecting us to attack him on his own grounds.”

“No. We’ll remain here. Have him come to us and fight him here.” Odin ordered, and Ronan felt his eyes grow wide in disbelief. Thor’s eyes had narrowed.

“They will destroy us. Father -”

“No. If your plan fails, you risk our enemy getting their hands on this weapon.”

“They’ve already beaten us once. We’ve lost too many -”

“- And we will lose more, to destroy them!” Odin’s firm reasoning had devolved into a yell and Ronan and Jane flinched back. Even Thor looked unsettled. “When he comes, he and his people shall fall to Asgardian blades!”

“And how many more are you willing to lose?”

“As many as it takes!”

“These are people you’re talking about!” Ronan was surprised the words even came out of his mouth, but he felt a sudden flush of anger overcome him. “You would disregard their lives, sentence them to death, and for what? To...to prove a point? They are people, with families and friends and loved ones, not tools to be used and discarded!”

“Watch your words carefully, boy.” Odin’s voice had gone cold. “The only reason you have not been thrown off Asgard is because you have saved my wife.”

Ronan wanted to yell, wanted to say more. Wanted to point out that even if their plan failed, had all the potential to fail, he was overflowing with luck. There was more a chance that it would work, because Ronan’s luck wouldn’t want the realms to be flooded with darkness - but instead, he kept his mouth shut. He wondered how literal the word ‘thrown’ would be, and decided it would be very literal, considering Loki’s exit from Asgard after the incident in New Mexico. Even if Thor’s version of events didn’t involve any literal throwing, Ronan wasn’t Odin’s son in any way, and he doubted the king of Asgard would have any qualms about hurling him off the edge of the bifrost.

He only stood and watched as Jane was lead off to her quarters. She kept her head held high, and Ronan noted her hands had clenched into fists by her sides. Obviously, she was just as angry as Ronan was with the whole situation, but had been smart enough to keep quiet.

He glanced up at Thor, who was watching his father leave, jaw clenched. Ronan fought off a grin - he was going to go against orders, wasn’t he?

Sometimes, Ronan loved his friends.

XoooX

The meeting Thor had conducted consisted of the four Asgardian warriors who had come to find him in New Mexico and Heimdall.

Ronan wasn’t too sure about involving Heimdall, purely because wasn’t he supposed to support the king unconditionally? Then again, he could also see everything, so either way he would know what was going on. Knowing he was on their side...it was comforting, in a way.

Thor opened the meeting by mentioning what they were doing would be treason. Ronan sort of knew there would be complaints - what they had done last time had been treason, going to get Thor against the orders of Loki when he was acting king - but it was still reassuring to hear no complaints and see no hesitation from the group. Then Thor mentioned their goal.

“We need to get Jane off world.” he said. “It is not safe to have her remain here, both for her wellbeing and the wellbeing of Asgard.”

“It’s impossible.” Sif shook her head, Ronan slightly mesmerised by the way her sleek black hair flowed with the movement. It had been golden, in the myths, but turned black when Loki cut it off on one of his particularly mischievous days. Also in the myths, Sif had a passive role in any story she was mentioned in, and was most certainly not a warrior - and yet, here she was, bedecked in armour. He tallied up that fact as yet another thing mortals had gotten wrong. “The bifrost is closed, and the tesseract has been sealed away. Even your mortal friend’s luck would not be able to help you in retrieving it.”

“Surely there are other ways off Asgard?” Ronan raised an eyebrow.

“There are, known only to a few.” Heimdall said.

“One, in particular.” Thor said and that got a snort out of Fandral, who leaned across the table, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You can’t seriously mean to ask _ Loki _ for help.” He said and Volstagg grunted his agreement.

“It’s foolish.” The bigger man said. Ronan couldn’t help but remind himself that those two weren’t actually mentioned at all in Norse Mythology, weren’t important enough to earn entry into the myths, and immediately felt bad about relishing that fact. They were helping them, even if they were disparaging Loki while doing it. “He’s untrustworthy.”

“How so?” Ronan had to ask, and he was all too aware that his hands had curled into fists. “I mean, has he not served Asgard well? I mean, before Thor was banished. He was your friend, yes?”

“He will still betray Thor now.” Fandral’s voice had gone soft, as though he had actually taken in Ronan’s words. “He holds no love for his family. Not after…”

“But he likes you.” Thor told Ronan, who blinked at Thor. “Which is why you will be coming with me.”

“No offence meant, but what’s to say that when faced with freedom, Loki will not turn on you and then head to Odin?” Sif asked, and she said it with no malice. It was as though she thought that was an actual possibility. “Kill the king and claim the throne, as he wished to do?”

“In New York, he held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me. I told him to.” Ronan said, and he was all too aware of the three who had not seen the events in New York - because Heimdall had seen, of course he had - staring at him. “He obviously didn’t. He had ample opportunity to kill me, but he didn’t. That’s why he won’t turn on us - because if he couldn’t kill me then, when he was desperate, why would he now when we’re freeing him? He’s clever and sneaky, not an idiot.” He heard Fandral muffle a laugh into his sleeve at that last comment. He wasn’t sure if it was incredulous or if he just found it humorous, but either way Ronan chose to ignore it.

“And after you’ve convinced Loki to follow your plan?” Fandral then asked, tossing his head back like a horse, making his locks bounce. Arrogant little thing, wasn’t he? He reminded Ronan of Tony a bit - the confidence, and arrogance, but without the little things that Ronan admired in Tony - his selflessness, his creative mind, how much he genuinely cared but hid it with flash and barvado. “Your lady love is guarded by a legion of our best, who will spot you coming from a mile away. Your lucky friend may be able to see her, but he won’t be able to get her out.”

“Oh, but neither of us will be coming to get her.” Thor said, and his eyes shifted over to Sif. She sighed, rolled her eyes, but nodded, resigned to her role in this plan.

“And the All-Father?” Volstagg asked finally and Heimdall tilted his head.

“It is my sworn duty to inform the king of any action against the throne.” And he gave a small smile, the slightest upturn of his lips, and Ronan decided that he really, really liked that guy. Much more than the other three gathered at the table, nonetheless.

“Sounds good.” Fandral grinned, toothy and bright and cocky. “When do we start?”

XoooX

Loki had lost count of the days he’d been imprisoned.

It had to have been months, but it felt longer, days dragging on and on as he followed a monotonous routine. His cell may be full of finer things, with books supplied by his mother (not his mother - Frigga was not his mother, no matter how much he wished it), but there was nothing stimulating.

At least his imprisonment on Earth, no matter how short, at least allowed him visitors often, even if it was only in the form of Ronan Spire.

Loki had tried to wipe thoughts of the boy from his mind, not knowing if Odin would root around in there and pluck his image from his memories, use his form to torment Loki. He wouldn’t put it past the All-Father to find a way to make Loki’s imprisonment even more unbearable than it already was. After all, he had told him he was destined to die, hadn’t cared when he let go of his staff while dangling over an abyss, had never truly loved Loki. He’d been intending to use him, and Loki couldn’t - wouldn’t, shouldn’t have to - forgive him for that.

But he missed talking to people. He’d only been seen by his mother, and a guard had informed him that she wasn’t...wasn’t dead, but not awake. A stroke of luck, he had said, and that had propelled Loki’s thoughts back to the mortal he couldn’t bring himself to kill.

Ronan had been right when he said Loki liked him - truly, Loki thought him strange and awkward, but his oddness had endeared him to Loki, and the Jotun could see some of himself in Ronan. The way he complained about being expected to be a soldier, the way he shoved his hands in his pockets like he’d rather not be the center of attention and most of all how sometimes he looked sad, eyes older than they had any right to be. His power - his luck - was only partly Loki’s reason for being so enraptured by him, almost ensnared by those dark eyes.

It was a horrible feeling, knowing that this mortal held sway over him.

He missed it, Loki had realised about a day in when he had almost instinctively waited for Ronan to show up with a battered children’s book - he wanted to know who had been trying to get the stone, before their story sessions had been interrupted - and he knew that he would never see Ronan again, hear him reading and putting on voices for different characters and pulling faces at certain lines, and it made him ache. He longed for the easy interaction that they had, the ease of not having to outshine one another. Loki knew that Ronan had a plan to get Loki to trust him, but he knew in turn that Ronan had also grown to care for Loki…

Right?

He hadn’t pushed Loki away when he’d crumpled against him in the tower, even when Loki spat out false declarations of hatred. He’d yelled at Thor - his perfect, do no wrong not-brother - when he’d attempted to muzzle Loki. He didn’t know what he meant about the sewing lips mentioned, but it had sobered Thor in a way Loki had never seen before.

And now Thor was here, in front of his cell, and he had brought a friend. Their face was hidden by a cloak, the dark green hood pulled up over his head. Or, Loki assumed the friend was a male, despite how small they were in comparison to his brother.

“After all this time, you finally come to visit me!” Loki put on a voice full of false cheer, the smile on his face sharp and unfriendly. “Why? To gloat? Mock? And who is your little friend? Do they wish to see what has become of the second prince of Asgard? Well, here he is - sorry if I disappoint.”

“Loki, no more illusions.” And Thor sounded sad, and Loki froze in his display. He knew. Of course he did. No matter how many times he fell for his doubles, Thor knew how much Loki loved Frigga. Even if she were alive, the fact she may not wake…

He heard the stranger let out a strangled noise when the illusion fell. Loki knew his cell was a mess, knew he was a mess, hair tangled and face gaunt. He couldn’t eat with the worry gnawing at him when it came to Frigga, with guilt knowing that he had directed the monster out.

“You knew me too well.” Loki offered him a bitter smile. “She’s alive. Will she wake?”

“They hope so.” Thor answered. “But I did not come to discuss that. I offer you a chance at vengeance. We wish to march upon Svartalfheim, but the All-Father will not allow it. We need your secret ways out of Asgard.”

“My my, brother.” Loki let out a bitter, weak laugh. “Once again, I am hidden away until I am needed. What does your companion think of this? Well?” Loki raised an eyebrow at them. “What do you think about betraying your king?”

“He isn’t my king.” And Loki felt his blood run cold. He knew that voice, recognised it as one that had haunted him. He managed to get to his feet and walked closer, closer until he was almost pressed up against the barrier as they lowered their hood.

His face, soft and dark, framed by black curls, looked sad, lips turned down. The dark eyes that had ensnared Loki were sad, too, and he tilted his head slightly. It was so hopelessly endearing. “So I have no qualms about betraying him.”

“You can’t be here.” Loki whispered. This was a trick, it had to be - some last, cruel act to finally send him mad. His brother - because they had been raised together, played together, fought together, no matter how much Loki tried to forget - and the mortal he cared about, illusions sent by his father to torment him. “You’re on Earth. You have to go back. You could be killed, or worse.”

“Expelled?” Ronan’s lips twitched upwards, an eyebrow quirking up. It was a line that Loki remembered, had found himself laughing at back on Earth. This was something Odin would have skimmed, found unimportant if he was truly reading his mind, and it made something inside Loki both churn and relax. This was real. That was Ronan, the lucky charm, in front of his cell, smirking. “Come on, you left that open.”

“It is you.” The three words were breathed out, and Loki almost cursed himself at how vulnerable he sounded. His eyes turned back to Thor, who gave Loki a look, a knowing one, and Loki resisted the urge to scream at him. “Alright. I’ll help you.”

“Just like that?” Thor sounded smug. Loki scowled at him, and managed to not laugh when Ronan hit him, just like Loki wanted to.

“I want to kill them for almost killing mother.” Loki said, and his eyes flickered back to Ronan. “And as much as I dislike you, I trust him. This isn’t some ploy by Odin, like I so feared.” His lips turned up into his trademark cocky smirk at Ronan’s startled expression, and he side eyed Thor. “When do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: Avoid writing in Loki’s POV. I want to get very introspective and that is bad for story telling. Do not have him was poetic about his insecurities and Ronan’s eyes. That’s also not getting the plot anywhere.  
> This...came out surprisingly quick once I sat down and started writing it. It seems my muse wants to get more Ronan and Loki interaction and lo and behold it happened.  
> I have bits of the next few chapters written up, just need tweaking to fit in better with what’s going on. So that’ll be fun.  
> Until next time! - Jazz xx


	5. V

Ronan didn’t know how Thor dispelled the barrier around Loki’s cell, and he couldn’t bring it in himself to ask how he’d managed it. He was still reeling at the fact that Loki had openly admitted he trusted him and that...that had to be big. After what Ronan knew, or thought he knew, to be true, Loki putting his trust in anyone was something that the pseudo god didn’t seem to do a lot, and Ronan knew he should treasure it.

“We can't have you wandering the castle looking like that.” Thor sighed heavily. “I’ll retrieve your armour.” This didn't take as long as Ronan expected - in fact, Thor didn't even have to leave the dungeons, as the armour was tucked away in a compartment that was expertly hidden amongst the architecture of the room. Loki merely pulled it on over his clothes, running his fingers through his hair in a desperate attempt to neaten it.

“Better?” He shot Thor a look that was more scathing than grateful. “As soon as the guards see us they'll know what you've done either way. And trust me, they will see us soon enough. They will recognise me.” Ronan frowned at that, before speaking up.

“Could you just use...you know?” Ronan waggled his fingers. Loki took a second to look amused, but also impressed, before his form changed.   
Hair grew longer and his shape grew softer, having more of an hourglass figure. The armour changed to look more feminine, features more gentle, lips fuller and eyelashes longer. It took a second for Ronan to remember - Loki was genderfluid.   
Also he had been referring to them as he the whole time.   
“Shit.”   
“Do you not -" Loki looked disheartened, but also defensive, and Ronan rushed to correct himself.   
“I've been referring to you with male pronouns shit are they your pronouns? Or is it female? Or something else? I am so sorry.” Loki looked at him, the look on their face odd. Like...they'd never been asked about pronouns, or been apologised to for calling them the wrong ones.   
“...He and him is...fine.” Loki managed.   
“What about your form? Are you...comfortable?”   
“Should I not be?” Loki tilted his head, Ronan slightly mesmerised by the movement of his longer hair.   
“That is a fair point.” Ronan offered Loki an arm, and he rested a pale hand in the crook of Ronan’s elbow. They looked not too out of place, would blend right in of not for Ronan’s stout refusal to get rid of his oversized hoodie.   
“This...does not bother you?”   
“Should it?” Ronan had to ask, before frowning when realising he had to look up to look Loki in the eyes. “The only issue is that you're taller than me, but honestly? That's an issue whether you look male or female.”   
“Or neither?”   
“Yeah, or neither.”   
“As lovely as this is,” And Thor sounded honest when he said that, not mocking like Ronan initially feared. “We need to move. Now.”

Even with Loki’s form visibly changed, it only took a few minutes for the guards to acknowledge the fact that they had lost a prisoner, one being sent to inform Odin, who would by now be at the Bifrost. With any luck, they wouldn’t have to deal with him before executing their plan, but that didn’t account for the other guards. Nonetheless, Loki dropped the glamour, which Ronan couldn’t help but feel grateful for.

He knew this form, knew it’s tells - he wasn’t sure how many of those little things would translate over to the feminine one.

They met up with Jane and Sif soon enough, Jane having to walk slightly too quickly to keep up with Sif’s elegant strides. He heard the beginning of a question, and suddenly a look of rage came across her face and she headed over to Loki.

Ronan had to bite his fist to not laugh when she slapped him. Sure, maybe he knew Loki wasn’t entirely responsible for New York, which Jane claimed the slap was for, but she seemed to have a thing for hitting Asgardians. Sometimes, he really did love his friend.

Ronan didn’t expect a second slap, though.

“And that,” Jane managed, voice hard. “Is for holding a knife to my friend’s throat.”

“I like her.” Loki informed Thor, the grin on his face one Ronan knew. It didn’t mean anything good, but it also meant Jane was probably not going to get killed, which was a good thing.

“There!” Ronan managed to not curse at the yell from one of the guards. Sif drew her sword, turning to Thor.

“Go. I’ll hold them off.” Ronan managed to not scoff at the impossibility of that - Sif may be a good warrior, but even she would be no match for a whole group of guards. She was hopelessly outnumbered. Thor seemed to have reached the same realisation Ronan had, his brows drawing together in worry. But still, he nodded.

“Thank you.” And they were off, running towards the throne room. Jane, although appearing to desperately want to ask questions, remained silent.

Malekith’s ship was just as imposing as Ronan remembered, and the shiver the sight of it that went up Ronan’s spine was one of foreboding. He did not like this, and his luck was telling him this ship was bad, bad, bad. But right now it was empty, and it was their only way off Asgard. He pushed the bad feeling down, squashed it with a mental boot, and followed Thor after he finished his brief exchange with Volstagg. Ronan wasn’t oblivious to Loki being stopped both by Sif and Volstagg, probably being threatened. No, definitely being threatened. Ronan had decided not to comment on that, though - he knew very well Loki wouldn’t betray Thor, both because he actually cared a great deal about his adopted brother, and maybe a little bit because Ronan would then be put at risk.

Only the tiniest bit the latter, though.

Honestly, the inner teenager in Ronan was getting excited about being inside an alien spaceship. It was the sort of thing he’d read about in comics, or seen on television when he was younger, so right now he was living the life a younger him only ever dreamed about. He would never admit to maybe fanboying slightly when they got inside the crashed ship. Ronan had always wanted to be inside a spaceship when he was little, staring out of a window during lessons and dreaming of new worlds and, well, here he was. Watching as two aliens slash gods argued over how to fly the ship.

“I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing?” Loki's voice had gone slightly hysterical and Thor shot him a criticising look.

“I said how hard could it be.” He countered. Ronan rolled his eyes, before nudging Thor out of the way of the console with his hip.

“Allow me.” He said, rolling up his sleeves and laying his hands over the console. He thought about how he needed to fly this ship, how he needed to be lucky enough to get it to work.

The console lit up like a Christmas tree and Ronan managed a smile before he stumbled backwards, suddenly feeling drained. Loki started forward to catch him before his clumsy feet sent him crashing to the ground, expression alarmed.

“What's wrong?” Jane's voice was sharp and Ronan waved it off with a hand.

“I'm fine. Thor, you might want to take control. Like now - dunno how long our luck will hold.”

That spurred Thor on, easily taking control of the ship. Easily, as in he was eager to - the flight itself was anything but. Ronan automatically reached out to steady himself against the side of the ship as it crashed into just about every column in the palace. He then proceeded to fly out through the palace wall. Ronan was grudgingly impressed by the amount of destruction caused in a few seconds.

“Why don’t you let me fly, I’m clearly the better pilot.”

“Loki, have you ever actually flown one of these things before?” Ronan countered that statement, and Thor let out a noise of triumph when Loki only grumbled something in annoyance. “Don’t act so smug, Thor. We aren’t out of Asgard yet.”

Of course, Asgard had defense mechanisms and protocols in place. The first few blasts from stationary weaponry were easy enough to avoid, but then they were being followed by smaller ships, armed with the Asgardian equivalent of guns, which were quick and easy to maneuver. The pilots knew what they were doing, that much was obvious, whereas Thor had never flown this ship before. Ronan was suspecting his luck was the only reason they hadn’t been blasted out of the sky.

He also suspected it was the only reason he managed to catch Jane as she nearly passed out, avoiding her hitting the floor painfully.

“Oh, dear.” Loki blinked. “We have a problem.”

“I’m fine.” Jane’s voice was weak, barely a whisper, and she lifted a hand to wave off concern.

“You’re obviously not.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Any time now, Thor!”

Thor managed to cast a look behind him, eyes immediately narrowing with concern.

“Jane -”

“Statue!” Ronan managed to yell, and Thor narrowly avoided crashing into the side of a cliff, but breaking apart the statue in the process. “Eyes forward, Thor! Pay attention to the ro - er, sky!”

“You just decapitated your grandfather.” Loki actually sounded impressed by that feat, which was honestly not helpful at the moment. Also, the diversion into the gap between the cliffs hadn’t exactly thrown the other pilots off course, and Ronan cursed when they narrowly avoided getting shot by one.

“Thor!” Ronan found himself yelling despite the fact he didn’t really need to. “If you want to implement our plan any time soon that would be great!”

“It's an amazing plan.” Loki's voice had gone scathing. “Let's get the biggest, most obvious ship around and escape in that. Never mind the fact you had no idea how to fly it, and all the while we're getting shot at. It's brilliant, pure geni -” Loki's tirade was cut off as he screamed - he definitely screamed - when Thor pushed him out of the ship. Ronan winced.

“Now?” He asked and Thor nodded. “Ok. Let's hope I'm lucky enough to not die.”

He managed not to scream as he stepped off the ship, wind whipping his curls into a frenzy as he fell. For a brief second he panicked, sure he was going to hit the water, only from this height it would be like hitting cement and he would be dead, but his feet hit solid ground and he managed to stage his landing so his body didn’t hate him for it. He glanced around, and Fandral gave him a grin. Loki was on the floor of the ship, struggling to his feet when Thor joined them, Jane in his arms.

“You tricked me.” Loki managed, before managing a small smile. “I'm impressed.”

“Thank you.” Ronan flashed him a grin, all teeth, and Loki's small smile grew bigger. “Care to get us out of here?”

“For you? Of course.” Loki took control of the boat from Fandral, ignorant to how his words made Ronan's heart flip and this was not the time, feelings. He noted how Loki's smile grew wider, more real and he flew the ship. High on freedom, maybe, of being allowed to be sneaky and not condemned for it. It made Ronan a little bit sad, but the smile on Loki's face was real, which did not help with the way his heart was acting up.

It also didn't help when another boat caught sight of them and began shooting. Ronan cursed under his breath and Thor turned to his blonde friend.

“Fandral.” Fandral nodded, picking up a rope and tying it to the end of the ship.

“For Asgard.” He said, before jumping off the ship in a move that Ronan had to admit was very Steve Rogers esque - as in, if not for the rope he swung from, he would have fallen very far and survived thanks to superior genetics.

He needed to make friends with people who were sensible, Ronan realised suddenly.

He caught sight of Fandral saluting them as Loki sped up, and Ronan turned back to look at the direction they were going.

He could only stare as Loki directed the ship to the tiniest of gaps in the cliff face. He turned to gape at the god, wind whipping his curls into a frenzy about his face. “You’re completely mad.” Was all he could say, and Loki shot him a grin that was one hundred per cent cheek. “Thor, your brother has lost it.”

“Loki…”

“If it was easy, everyone would do it.” The dark haired man countered, grin still on his face. Ronan closed his eyes, clenching them shut, bracing himself for death.

It didn’t come, the ship only lurching as Ronan felt the bottom of his stomach drop. He opened a wary eye, before the other joined it, staring.

It had worked. They were in Svartalfheim.

XoooX

Thor wasn't surprised to find Ronan and Jane asleep soon after their arrival. They wouldn't meet with Malekith just yet. He wanted to allow the mortals a chance to rest. Ronan had laughed slightly hysterically once they had reached Svartalfheim, before collapsing next to Jane and falling asleep. Jane had managed a small, fond smile, running a hand through his curls before joining him in slumber.

“What I could do with the power in her veins…” Unfortunately, Loki hadn't joined them, and had disrupted the peace with that comment. Thor didn't like the tone of voice, mind going back to the tesseract, to the sceptre, to what Ronan had suspected had happened to his brother. Power never lead to anything good with Loki. It usually ended up with him hurt.

“It would consume you.”

“She seems to be doing alright.” Loki's voice was full of false confidence, before it almost softened. “Say goodbye.” Thor shook his head.

“Not this day.”

“This day, the next, a hundred years, it’s nothing. It’s a heartbeat. You’ll never be ready. The only woman whose love you prized will be snatched from you.” Thor could almost ignore Loki’s words. Almost, except despite what some Midgardian’s believed, Thor wasn’t stupid. He detected the underlying worry in Loki’s voice, the way his gaze flickered to where Ronan was curled up next to Jane. His hand, once empty, was now curled around one of Jane's, clutching it like a lifeline.

“I do not believe you are speaking these words to ward me off.” Thor retorted, and Loki snorted.

“Why else would I be speaking them?”

“Because you care, brother -”

“I am not your brother.”

“- For the mortal you let live.” Thor finished as though Loki hadn’t interrupted him. Loki’s eyes yet again flickered to Ronan, who mumbled something about stones under his breath. The look on Loki’s face was one Thor had never seen before - utterly fond, almost heartbreakingly so. “He will die too.” Loki’s hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

“I will not allow it.” Thor felt his heart break for Loki, Loki who had wanted to rule Asgard, take over the world. Loki, who was his  _ brother _ , who had somehow fallen helplessly in love with the mortal boy with clever hands and too big a heart and the power over luck.

“Even you cannot control death, Loki.”

“I have to try!” Loki's voice cracked, and it startled Thor because he hadn't heard Loki sound weak. Not until he saw Ronan when they'd rescued him from the dungeons and, oh, wasn't that a stunning realisation? That Ronan did make his brother break where no one else could. “Out of everyone in this universe, I can't lose him!” His breathing came out heavy, panting, and his eyes were wide like he couldn't believe that he had admitted that. That he had appeared weak. “I nearly lost mother, I can't...not him.”

“Not yet.” Thor reached out to place a hand on Loki's shoulder, but his younger brother pulled back violently.

“I don't want your...your pity.” Loki scowled at him. Thor didn't want to pity him, he understood - gods, of course he understood. His own love was mortal, on the precipice of death. Though Ronan had the power of luck, he doubted it would extend to increasing his life span. That would be a stretch at most, too good to be true. Thor's thoughts drifted to Iduun’s apples, a split second of hope, before realising that would be fruitless. His father would never allow it. He heard Loki's heavy sigh, and his brother sounded so very tired. “Can we just finish this?”

The rest of the journey was silent, and Thor pretended he hadn't noticed the tears gathering in Loki's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!
> 
> I'm currently having issues with work, meaning I haven't had a day of since before Christmas (excluding Christmas because we weren't open) and I'm pretty sure that may be illegal. So. That's a thing that's happening in my life and I need to leave before I actually die.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm planning on another interlude between this and the next main segment (Silver instead of Iron, I think it shall be called, but I'm still tossing around ideas) but it shall be more relevant to things that happen in the AoU rewrite than TWS, so there's that.
> 
> Reviews are greatly appreciated as always! - Jazz xox


	6. VI

Even with his luck, Ronan wasn't sure the plan would work.

It counted on Loki and Thor's acting skills, the fact that Malekith would truly believe what Loki said. It also meant that Jane would be flying blind, that Ronan would either have to feign fighting or siding with Loki. The siding with Loki would be easier, but Jane would see through it. She was good at that, realising when Ronan had a plan. That was why she couldn't know, because when she realised it was an act she wouldn't have realistic reactions. As smart as Jane was, her acting abilities left much to be desired.

“Are you ready?” Thor's voice was loud in the quiet, and it made Ronan wince.

“I am.” Loki replied, eyes flickering to Ronan briefly before they returned to Thor. “You do realise this plan is going to get us all killed?”

“Quite possibly.” Thor began to lead the way, Loki moving to stand next to him. “We just have to hope the stars are on our side.”

Even though Ronan knew to expect it, Loki stabbing Thor still startled the hell out of him. Thor went down, careening down the incline they'd been on top of, Loki following the blondes descent. Jane screamed Thor's name, making to follow and Ronan grabbed her arm, holding her back.

“Don't.” He said, eyes following Loki. “That's what they want.”

“Do you ever think I really cared? About Frigga, about any of you?” And Loki was really selling it, the rage in his voice sounding real. Maybe some of it was. Maybe he was bitter and now was as good a time as any to unleash it. He wished he hadn't seen Loki kicking Thor, though - it made him wince, seeing the bigger Asgardian hurt. “All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet.”

When Thor made the usual hand gesture to summon Mjolnir, Loki moved quick as a viper, and the hand was gone. The scream Thor let out was almost too real, and even Ronan couldn't hold Jane back from running to his side. Ronan found his feet moving of their own accord, making to follow Jane and double check that this was actually part of the plan.

He found himself stopped by an invisible wall. This was not part of the plan, but hey, it made it look as though Loki truly wasn’t on their side. Loki spared him a glance. “Can’t have you interfering. You mess up everything.” And maybe that hurt, even if it was an act, and Ronan flinched involuntarily. Jane looked up at Loki, and Ronan could imagine the fire in her eyes, her fear replaced with cold, icy rage. Loki merely grabbed her arm and dragged her to Malekith. Loki raised his head, and began to speak. “I am Loki, of Jotunheim, and I bring you a gift.” He flung Jane to the ground in front of Malekith, and Ronan winced because that would definitely leave a mark. “I ask only for one thing in return - a good seat from which to watch Asgard burn.”

Ronan could see the bigger dark elf - the one who didn’t look elf like in the slightest manner - murmur something to Malekith. He noted with a sharp stab of satisfaction that Thor had managed to scar half of his face with his lightning, and Ronan sincerely hoped that it hurt as badly as it looked. He hoped it even more when Malekith stood on Thor, turned his body with his foot.

“Look.” He commanded, and then Jane was lifted into the air by some unknown force and Ronan found himself yelling. This was part of the plan, he reminded himself futilely, even as he rammed a fist against the invisible barrier.

He could see the tendrils of what looked like sand floating out of Jane, towards Malekith’s outstretched hand. Out of her eyes and mouth and nostrils, and Ronan wanted to run to her, to drag her away because Jane was his friend, had been there for him for most of his life and this shook him to his bones. She wouldn’t live after this, he realised with a start, not if they didn’t have a plan. He knew deep within him Malekith would not let her go.

He watched as she dropped to the ground, and heard Thor yell as Loki vanished his illusion, as Mjolnir returned to Thor’s hand. Loki dived to cover Jane, and Ronan faintly realised he was safe behind his barrier as Thor summoned lightning and struck the aether. It caused a mild explosion, turning to dust and shards of ruby glinting amongst the dark.

That had been too easy.

Ronan knew it hadn’t worked as the shards began to rise. The moved together, converged to Malekith and enveloped him, took him on as a host in a flash of red amongst the dark sand. He should have known it wouldn’t work. If the aether was one of the stones his mother had regaled him with, Thor’s lightning, no matter how powerful, wouldn’t be able to destroy it. Malekith turned to leave, and the elves started advancing and Ronan felt his hand move to his side where the knife Thor had bought him lay. Seemed like it would be put to use.

He was vaguely aware of the green glow of Loki’s magic dissolving the invisible prison he had been locked in, though Ronan wasn’t sure if it had been intentional or not. Probably not, considering how the magic user was preoccupied with pushing Jane out of the way of one of the vortex grenades. For a split second, Ronan’s heart was in his throat as he watched Loki get pulled towards it, up until Thor disrupted the pull, knocking him and Loki to the ground. They got back to their feet quickly enough and Thor, of course, set his sights directly on Malekith.

It was not a good plan - Thor would always be reckless, always slightly too single minded, and as much as Ronan liked him, sometimes he wanted to grab the man by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

He was stopped by the giant dark elf who didn’t look like an elf and the two were engaged in combat, Thor easily overpowered by his larger opponent.

Ronan darted to Jane, still on the ground, and knelt next to her.

“Jane?”

“I’m fine.” She said, but she sounded dazed and scared. “I saw -”

“Later.” Ronan assured her, glancing up towards Loki. Loki, who was easily outmatched by a good few elves and only had a knife on him. He cursed, getting to his feet. Jane made a noise of protest.

“What are you doing?”

“What I did in New York.” Ronan managed. “Something stupid.” And he was off, and he managed a weak smirk at Jane’s curse.

Despite being outmatched, Loki seemed to be doing a pretty good job at keeping the dark elves occupied. It reminded Ronan that, although he was small and lithe, Loki had been trained as a warrior. Even so, he was occupied with the front, barely noticed the elf behind him.

Loki turned to find the elf that had been going to kill him fall, pierced by Ronan’s knife. He was breathing heavily, and his hands shook because...because he had killed something. He hadn’t killed anything before, hadn’t even the stomach to wash a spider down the drain. He glanced down at the body at his feet, and turned to look at Loki, eyes wide and disbelieving. Loki nodded.

“Good job.”

“I just…” Ronan trailed off and Loki reached out, placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Later.” He said, and turned. Ronan noticed what Loki had, Thor on the floor, being pummeled by the monster he had targeted. “Stay here.”

Ronan didn’t manage to get a word in edgeways as Loki ran towards his brother, conjuring a weapon to his hand as he ran. Ronan only managed to follow part ways before he saw Loki impale the creature.

What happened next was something that Ronan didn’t want to linger on. It was like when Frigga nearly almost died, but ten times worse. This time, he saw the spear go in, saw Loki’s expression of shock, like he hadn’t expected it. He saw him fall to the floor, heard Thor yell. He was too occupied with running down that he barely noticed the monster being consumed by one of his own grenades. He slid next to Loki, tasting bile in his throat. Thor was holding him, as Loki stuttered out breathless words and broken apologies.

“You fool.” Thor was on the verge of tears. “You should have stayed back.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” It was jarring to hear Loki apologise, and Ronan reached out to take a hand. He took in a shuddering breath and squeezed it once, before releasing it. He felt himself deny it, deny this in front of him fervently.

And he remembered the power that ran through his veins.

Ronan’s hands hovered over Loki, fingertips gently pressing against the edge of the wound. His vision was blurred with tears, but he was sure Loki grimaced, turned to face him. Jane had moved from her spot and her hand landed on his shoulder, attempting to pull him away. Ronan ignored it.

_ I need to save him,  _ he thought, and the magic in his veins responded to his demands eagerly.

_ We can do that, _ it seemed to say, rushing to his fingers.

Ronan could feel the power this time, power rushing through his veins like liquid luck, and he imagined it was gold, like Felix Felicis, like the potion Harry had drank in The Half Blood Prince. He heard Loki gasp as the gold jumped from Ronan’s fingers around the wound. Just a bit more.

Colour was returning to Loki’s face, and green eyes stared at Ronan as sweat beaded on his forehead.  _ That’s enough, _ he thought, and the connection was closed, the wound almost non existent, and Ronan nearly blacked out. Thor helped Loki to his feet, the trickster still running a hand over where the wound should have been.

_ There was no wound bad enough to kill him, _ Ronan thought. He had allowed Frigga to breathe, but not heal her enough. Part of what happened had to be Loki’s doing.

“What was that?” Jane asked, and Ronan leaned heavily against her, twitching his fingers.

“Luck.” He decided. “That was all luck.”

XoooX

They were left stumbling blind through Svartalfheim, a dust storm kicking up with high winds buffeting all four of them. Ronan made to take in a breath through his mouth, which only filled his lungs with dust and sand and left him coughing pitifully. It didn’t help that he was still leaning on Jane slightly, feeling light headed and sick.

They eventually stumbled across a cave, and ducked inside and out of the wind. Ronan took the opportunity to lean heavily against the wall, catching his breath. He heard someone move to stand next to him, and glanced up to see Loki watching him with concern.

“Are you...alright?” His voice was small, unsure, and Ronan managed what he hoped was a comforting smile.

“Just...never done anything that big before.” He managed. “I...I’ll be fine. Just need to catch my breath, sort through...everything.” He’d killed something. That was a thought that haunted him continuously. He’d killed something and he never had before and it was terrifying how little he truly cared.

“He’s going to unleash it.” Jane spoke up finally, and eyes turned to her. She looked distressed. “The aether. I don’t know how but he’s...he’s going to blot out everything. Not just our sun, but the stars and everything. He’s going to plunge everything into darkness and I...I saw it.”

“What did you see?” Thor had to ask. Jane ran a hand through her hair.

“He’s going to Earth. Why…” She trailed off, and her eyes lit up with realisation. “The Convergence. There has to be a...a point on Earth that links all the realms.”

“The building site.” Ronan realised with a start. “Things weren’t just disappearing, they were being transferred through different realms. Maybe it’s magnetic in a way - bottles kept moving, but cans didn’t?”

“And it lead me to the aether.” Jane added. “Oh god, if we hadn’t gone there none -”

“ It doesn’t matter.” Loki cut off Jane’s self deprecating speech before it could spiral off. “What’s done is done. We need to find a way out of he -”

That was when Ronan’s phone went off.

He knew it was his phone because he had Shoot to Thrill as Tony’s ringtone and it was blaring throughout the cave. Jane frowned.

“Why is your phone going off?” She asked. Ronan gave her a look.

“Because someone’s calling me.” He replied, voice sarcastic, and he answered it and gestured further into the cave with his head. “Hey Tony.”

“I’ve been trying to call you for the past day.” Was what Tony said in reply, and Ronan couldn’t help but grin at the familiar voice. God, he missed him. “Your phone’s been declining my calls.”

“Yeah. I was on a field trip to Asgard.” Ronan replied. “Then I was attacked by Dark Elves and now I’m in Svartalfheim.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Tony didn’t sound impressed. “Ronan, I swear to God if you don’t get back to Earth now -”

“I’m fine -”

“You didn’t see the Chitauri.” Tony’s voice had gone panicky, approaching what Ronan recognised as an anxiety attack. “You don’t know what else is out there, Ro -”

“Breathe.” Ronan instructed, keeping his voice calm as Jane picked up the can she had dropped in the building site so long ago. “Deep breaths, Tones. I’m with Thor. I’m fine. I’m safe. I haven’t even scraped my knee. I’m alright. We’re...working on the getting back to Earth thing. It’s easy enough. Oh, but you will be so jealous, the tech on Asgard is super amazing.” Ronan was aware he was rambling, but sometimes the aimless chatter helped whenever he felt like the air was too thin and he couldn’t breathe. “They had this thing called a Soul Forge and it transfers energy from one place to another and the toys they have are small masterworks. You’d love it, Tony, it’s incredible. I met Heimdall and totally embarrassed myself because I asked him too many questions about the myths that aren’t true and -”

“Ro?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m good.” Tony’s voice sounded sincere over the phone, and Ronan could picture the smile he’d be wearing - a small, but genuine one. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Except from when I’m in space. Usually the connection sucks.” He heard Tony let out a breathless laugh.

“I guess. Want me to stay on?”

“Just for a bit. Think we’ve found a...portal or something? I don’t know. There’s this thing called the Convergence and it’s like...linking realms. It’s messing with my powers. Meaning that I’m actually being lucky for once.”

“Ok, that’s messed up.” Tony’s voice held laughter. Jane let out a triumphant noise.

“Got it!” She called and Ronan nodded.

“Found it.” He said. “I’ll call you later. I’ll be back in America in a few days.”

“I’ll send a private jet and ready you a room.” Tony corrected. “I’m forcing all of you to live with me in New York. Mostly you. I saw your hovel of an apartment and you are not paying rent there anymore.”

“Tony -”

“Nope, no arguments kid.” Tony would be grinning, Ronan knew it. “I’ll call you back soon.” Before Ronan could argue anymore, Tony ended the call. He pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it.

“He hung up on me!”

“Tragic.” Jane sounded nonplussed. “Doesn’t matter - we’ve got the portal. We can go home - we’ve got a universe to save.”

XoooX

Darcy wasn’t impressed with their disappearing act. She had found Erik, though, which meant she hadn’t been just freaking out.

Apparently the convergence was causing portals to appear almost everywhere. It was just unfortunate that they hadn’t found one sooner. Ronan supposed he should be grateful that they hadn’t stumbled across one which deposited them on another planet.

Loki looked awkward, and rightfully so, at the sight of Erik Selvig and attempted to shield himself behind Thor so his presence wouldn’t be noted. Ronan resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead joined Jane in scrutinising the map that Erik had spread out over the table.

“Malekith is going to have to unleash the aether when all the realms are aligned.” She murmured. “Maximum effect that way. All the worlds, the entire universe - it’s going to go dark.”

“It’s only temporary.” Thor pointed out, and he glanced at Ronan. “And, fortunately, we have luck on our side.”

“Not much.” Ronan corrected. “I’ve saved two people from dying. I don’t think I can do much more without passing out. I would like to avoid passing out, thank you.”

“There must be a way to figure out where this will be strongest.” Jane turned to Erik, who nodded slightly.

“Yes...this has happened before. Ancient civilisations left...clues. Egyptians, Mayans, they made use of the gravitational anomalies.” He was muttering to himself. “Snowdon, Stonehenge, the Great Orme -”

“They’re all related to myths. Legends.” Ronan found himself saying. “The Great Orme is a derivative of nordic for Great Serpent, Snowdon was something to do with King Arthur and a giant. Stonehenge was said to be placed there by Merlin. Everything was placed for a purpose, linked to mythology.” His eyes flickered over to Thor and Loki. “Just like Asgardians are said to be gods. Like how the dark elves are told in old tales that are no longer deemed true.”

“They all lead to something. They cross somewhere.” Erik was drawing lines, now, dissecting the map with graphite until all the lines met at one point.

“Greenwich?” Jane sounded confused. Ronan thought it sounded way too convenient, but of course every world threatening situation seemed to put him in the middle of things. Could one retire from events that could destroy the world? It seemed like something he should look into in the future. “Physics is going to go mental, the aether is going to distort reality, the fabric of it will be torn apart.” Ronan felt his lips quirk up.

“Maybe we can use that.” He said, and eyes turned to him. Loki frowned, before the same look crossed his face, one that promised mayhem.

“Oh, Ronan Spire, I do love the way you think.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took too long but it’s here and now I can breathe.
> 
> Next chapter is either gonna be the last or the penultimate of When the Stars Align, not 100% sure yet. It depends how much I write. I’m looking forward to it, nonetheless. It means another movie is out of the way, and I can focus on the next part, which is more Avengers based instead of Thor based, which is a dynamic I love writing.
> 
> Also this will follow like, barely any movie canon that was confirmed in AoU. This is going back to the good old days of 2012. So yeah.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed! - Jazz xx

**Author's Note:**

> So. I have had the first chunk of this written for ages, but came to a block close to the end. I meant to finish it like, a week ago, but I went and sprained my wrist so that was put on hold. And then I saw Infinity War and was put on hold again due to intense feels. But yeah, it's finished. Not keen on the end but, whatever.
> 
> Anyways, welcome to When The Stars Align and your regular Ronan shenanigans! *cue confetti* I have been looking forward to writing this particular segment of Ronan's arc for months at this point, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed coming up with what the hell is gonna happen.
> 
> See you soon! - Jazz xx


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